Tuesday, March 17, 2009

Nightmare on Mango (S)tree(T)

Freddy Kruger was better. He used to finish his victim of with one slash. My horror story is quite unlike that and every passing day sees my lawn littered with the half eaten victims; my poor mangoes.

I am witness to one of the most ruthless massacres this side of Hitler's gas chambers. Literally. The tiny striped devil's have no heart. Each time I gaze up I see another victim slashed and strung up, half eaten. Over a few hours the green rind disappears and the yellow, exposed pulp starts shrinking.

Some even fully eaten with only an tiny umbrella of rind attached to the seed hanging from it's stalk.

The summer shower's have passed and the brief welcome cool has since faded away. As the mercury climbs back to the 40s, I feel my brain getting cooked in my cranium. What can you do with a creature so tiny & ruthless?

The culprit has no inhibitions. Hanging to that stalk upside down and gorging mouthfuls while looking down upon me with disdain. I can only look upwards in anguish, my gaze shifting from a fast disappearing mango and the heavens.